


Interrogation

by Tenukii



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Force Choking, Friends to Enemies, Interrogation, Love/Hate, M/M, Mind Rape, Revised Version, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 13:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15686751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenukii/pseuds/Tenukii
Summary: Kylo Ren interrogates Poe Dameron to learn where he hid the map from Jakku.





	Interrogation

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board.”

Kylo Ren said it mockingly, and he liked how the words sounded, filtered through his mask.  Especially when he remembered the earlier derision in Poe Dameron’s voice: _It’s just very hard to understand you with all the. . . apparatus_.  He knew Poe could understand him perfectly well.  Nevertheless, Poe didn’t reply.  All he did was lift his bloodied head and give Kylo a look from under half-lowered lids, through his thick lashes.  That look said, quite clearly, _Fuck you._

Still, Kylo wasn’t lying; he _hadn’t_ known that Poe was the best pilot until Captain Phasma apprised him of that fact.  He had suspected it, certainly, but he hadn’t _known_.  Poe had always been the best at anything he put his hand to, though.  As the pilot glared up at Kylo Ren, liquid brown eyes fixed on Kylo’s black and silver visor, Kylo hated him.

The trick was not to let Poe know it.  Hate—this kind of hate, intense, personal, consuming—made one vulnerable to its object, and the only way to hide vulnerability was to feign disinterest.

“Comfortable?” Kylo sneered.  Although his mask hid every facial expression from his enemy, Kylo kept his distance.  Even with his face was covered, body language could reveal so much.

“Not really,” sniffed Poe.  Kylo marveled at how impertinent Poe was to him—always had been, in fact, in contrast to what a disgusting little sycophant he’d always been to General Organa, kowtowing to her every whim.  That memory only stoked Kylo’s hatred, and he shoved it away as ruthlessly as he silenced the whispers of the Light within him.  There was far too much danger in remembering the past, back when Poe Dameron wasn’t quite the best pilot in the Resistance yet, and when Kylo Ren was just Ben Solo, just Leia Organa’s son.

Focusing instead on the present, Kylo swept his eyes over Poe’s short, prostrate form.  He was held fast to a platform there in the interrogation chamber with restraints at his wrists, waist, and ankles.  Poe had leaned forward when Kylo first spoke, and he held his head up now to stare Kylo in the mask, although the position must be putting strain on Poe’s shoulders and neck.  Good.  The more “not really” comfortable Poe was, the easier he would break.

Once he was certain that he had his emotions in check, Kylo moved toward the pinioned man in a slow stalk.

He breathed, “I’m impressed.  No one has been able to get out of you what you did with the map.”  Kylo could see evidence of the Stormtroopers’ attempts literally written on Poe’s handsome face: blood running down his cheek from his left temple, under his right eye, from the corner of his mouth.  Kylo’s eyes traced the blood’s path and lingered over how it glistened on Poe’s lower lip.  Although Poe’s mouth was too wide to be feminine, his lips could almost be described as pretty.  They were full and a slightly richer color than his light brown skin.

Poe tilted his head back farther so he could still look into the black recess over Kylo’s eyes as Ren neared him.  Although the captive lifted his dark brows, he kept his eyelids partially lowered.  The way his eyes peered through his lashes, the facetious twist to his mouth, the tone of his voice as he spoke—Poe’s entire attitude seemed sensual, even as it dripped scorn and loathing for his captor.

“You might want to rethink your technique,” Poe informed Kylo.

Behind his mask, Kylo’s eyes widened with surprise, and he blinked.  Poe Dameron was actually _asking_ for the interrogation Kylo Ren had come to administer.

_You arrogant little fool_ , Kylo thought, and his constant, low-burning hatred for Poe ignited into a flame of anger.

Kylo lifted his gloved right hand, and Poe cast a skeptical, almost bored look at it.  But then Kylo spread his fingers, drawing on the Force, and the pinioned man’s head and shoulders rose up further as if he were leaning toward Kylo’s grasp.  The expression on Poe’s handsome, bloody face shifted to confusion as he felt Kylo’s mind begin to insinuate itself into his.  Poe made a soft, inarticulate noise and tried to close his thoughts off from the reach of the other man’s mind.  His pathetic attempt at resistance fanned Kylo’s anger into rage.

Kylo blasted Poe with the Force both mentally and physically.  It threw Poe’s head back against the platform to which he was restrained, and Poe groaned in pain.  Kylo felt the sound make the muscles in his back clench all the way down his spine.

Still fighting against the intrusion into his thoughts, Poe stretched his neck out, making the tendons on it protrude.  His eyes opened wide and his lips parted, but then Poe tilted his head even farther and let his eyes drop closed again.

“Where is it?” Kylo demanded.  Ever trying to impress, Poe struggled to lift his head and spit out his reply, although he could do little more than jut his chin forward and focus his glare again on Kylo’s mask.

“The Resistance will not be intimidated by you,” Poe rasped.

Of course it wouldn’t, not _this_ part of the Resistance, anyway—not this perfect, infallible, incorruptible part.  Not the handsome, heroic pilot who was never tempted by the Dark, who had never known what it was like to have two parts of himself at constant war with one another.  Even without one bit of sensitivity to the Force, Poe Dameron _was_ the Light.  He embodied the annoying whine that called Kylo to turn back, just as much as Kylo’s own family did—maybe even more so, because Poe was a blind follower of the faith.  He couldn’t feel the Force; he could only trust those who did, and he trusted with his whole life.

Kylo hated him.  He hated Poe out of envy, for all the things Poe had that he never could possess: beauty, unwavering conviction, the adoration of others, but most of all, _peace_.  The peace of not having the Light always tugging on the Dark within him—or the Dark tugging on the Light.  Kylo hated Poe because he could never be brought to the Dark side, and because without even trying, Poe made him long for the Light.

Kylo thrust the Force at Poe in another burst of strength, rocking the smaller man’s head back and bringing a second grimace of pain to Poe’s mouth.

“ _Where— **is** it?_ ” Kylo growled.  He plunged his mind into Poe’s, gloating that he could see the pilot’s thoughts without Poe getting so much a glimpse of what Kylo was thinking.  Poe’s head dropped forward again with both physical and mental pain.  His brow furrowed, and Kylo thought for an instant that the smaller man was near tears.  But instead, Poe screamed, and the look in his eyes was full of rage and outrage. . . not sadness, and not betrayal.

That look was Kylo’s salvation and Poe’s downfall.  Kylo Ren could oppose anger by raging against it.  He could oppose hatred by hating it back.  But if Poe had wept, Kylo’s heart might have broken, and the Light in him would have won.

Kylo shoved his way through the layers of Poe’s mind, past the conscious thought— _oh Maker it hurts but I have to fight him_ —through the stratum just underneath— _can’t let him find the map_ —to the subconscious— _how can he do this to me what happened to make him change why is he hurting me like this I want him to let me go I want to find BB-8 I want to go home_.

Hurting Poe to get what he wanted, that was tolerable.  No, it was _desirable_ , Kylo decided, because Poe’s pain was Kylo’s retribution.  Cutting through the cocky swagger of Poe’s sarcasm and defiance, seeing into the questions of his heart. . . .  Poe had his blind faith, and it wasn’t the Force he questioned.  Poe’s questions were for Kylo Ren, or more accurately, the boy Kylo Ren used to be.

_why is he hurting me like this how could Ben do this to me I want him to let me go I want to go home I want Ben to come home with me I want Ben with me I want Ben—_

Kylo stared at Poe’s sweating, tensing, writhing body.  Was Poe somehow able to control his subconscious enough to think such things deliberately, so that he might manipulate Kylo?  Of course not, because Poe was useless with the Force, just like he was useless for anything else besides flying things and showing off.

“Ridiculous fool, you still care about me— _him?_ ” Kylo growled even though Poe very likely couldn’t hear him now.  The rhetorical question didn’t convey enough disgust and disdain to release the pressure of Kylo’s anger, so he slapped Poe hard across his sweating face and snarled, “ _Idiot!_ ”

Poe’s head snapped to one side with the force of Kylo’s blow, but he didn’t feel that any more than he heard Kylo’s words.  He was locked within his own mind.

Kylo gritted his teeth and dove back into Poe’s thoughts, determined to find where the pilot had hidden the map so Kylo could be through with him.  Reading Poe’s thoughts against his will would have been painful for the pilot no matter what, but Kylo could have worked more slowly and more gently.  He could have made it _less_ painful for the man who had once been Kylo’s dearest friend.

Kylo made it hurt as much as he could.

When he drilled past the litany of “why”s and “how could he”s and “I want”s, Poe gave another scream which weakened into a garbled moan then trailed off into silence as the pilot lost consciousness completely.  An unconscious mind read much differently from a conscious one, and Kylo felt as if he’d been plunged into another universe where entropy had already won, and all order was a distant memory.

He’d gone too far to extract anything useful, but on the way down, Kylo glimpsed the answer he wanted: _BB-8_.

_I want to find BB-8_.

Something called BB-8 was all over Poe’s mind, and Poe wanted to find it.  Why?

_Stupid!_ Kylo cursed himself as he heard Poe’s second scream and began sinking below the pilot’s subconscious desires.  _I was too rough, went too fast, broke everything like I always do—but maybe there’s still time—_

He locked onto the thought of BB-8 and chased it from synapse to synapse within Poe’s brain: BB-8 – round, orange, really really round, rolling, rolling _fast_ – a droid, it was a droid – _Poe’s_ droid – Poe loved it – Poe _loved_ it, the idiot loved his damn droid like it was a pet, or a even his child – Poe trusted his droid, trusted it with his life – and his secrets – and then round orange BB-8 rolled away fast over the dunes with Poe’s secret, and Poe wanted to find it again because he loved it – and because he had to know that his secret was safe.

That was as far as Kylo got before Poe’s thoughts became a scramble, but it was enough of what he needed to know, and he got out.

Once he’d withdrawn from Poe’s mind, Kylo realized he was leaning over the smaller man, gripping the platform with both hands to brace himself.  He looked down at Poe’s limp body sprawled beneath him, then back up to the pilot’s still face.

“A clever plan, especially to have come from _you_ ,” he muttered.  “ _If_ you had been bright enough not to get yourself captured.”

Kylo pushed himself back upright but continued to speak to the captive man as if Poe could hear him.  “But of course, you always did feel such a compulsion to be the hero, didn’t you?  You have your parents to live up to, and the illustrious General Organa to impress.  So when you thought you had the chance to kill Kylo Ren, you couldn’t let _that_ pass you by, could you?  Even though it showed me right where you were hiding.”

He ended the sentence in a growl and lifted his right hand to grasp Poe’s neck with the Force—not hard enough to choke the pilot, just enough to push his head back upright and possibly leave bruises.

“All of that shit about ‘wanting Ben to come home’—you didn’t mean any of it, did you?” Kylo snarled.  His deep voice grew a little louder with each word.  “Somehow you _did_ put those thoughts in your subconscious, to make me want to let you go—or maybe just to hurt me, because you knew I’d _know_ they’re lies!  You don’t care about me, you duplicitous bastard—you tried to _kill_ me!”

When he realized his grip was tightening all on its own, Kylo let go of Poe’s neck before he did any permanent damage.  He _could_ kill Poe; the pilot had served his purpose now that Kylo knew what he’d done with the map.  But there would be no satisfaction in killing an unconscious man, or even in destroying his mind so that Poe’s body would live on but his self would be gone.

Besides, Poe might prove to have some other information the First Order could use, and anyhow, General Hux would demand to know why Kylo had executed a prisoner without discussing it first.

Never mind that it hurt Kylo to think of Poe Dameron dead, and it hurt worse to imagine him alive with his mind broken, those beautiful eyes empty with all the light gone out of them.  It was only a little part of Kylo that hurt, though, and that little part would be excised soon enough.

“Even if you really do want to bring me ‘home,’ it isn’t because you care about _me_ ,” Kylo mumbled.  “It would be quite a victory for you to be the fearless hero who brought Kylo Ren back to the Light and made him become pathetic, useless Ben Solo again.  You’d be the one who outshone me, just like you did when we were young.

“But this time, it won’t happen that way.  The Resistance will fail.  The Light will not win, Poe Dameron, and neither will you.  When we were younger, I admired and envied you.  I even thought that I loved you.  But now I see what you really are: a careless, arrogant fool with nothing to offer besides some fancy flying and a pretty face.  You aren’t worth loving—you aren’t even worth hating.”

Then, leaving Poe in the interrogation chamber layered in drying sweat and clotting blood, Kylo Ren strode away to begin searching for the droid and the map.

\--

The End


End file.
